


As In Life (Bloodlines: Mary)

by ehre_wahrheit



Series: Project Bloodlines [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Mary-Centric, Minor Character Death, Other, Possible Spoilers, omega!Mary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-22 01:48:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 5,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3710338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ehre_wahrheit/pseuds/ehre_wahrheit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mary Campbell-Winchester<br/>1960-1989<br/>Loving Mother, Loving Daughter, Beloved Wife.</p><p>--</p><p> </p><p>  <i> Marianne Campbell fought the system. So did I, my child. </i></p><p> </p><p>A telling of Mary's life from the first of December, 1983, to the twentieth of January, 1985.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. December 1, 1983

**Author's Note:**

> This is Mary's journal, more or less, a telling of life from her words, her perspective, in those years she was tortured.
> 
> This is spoilers up to chapter 11 of Demons, if you haven't read that yet. This is the back story, just an itty bit of it, from the eyes of the one person who was hurt by the events of what happened three decades ago the most.
> 
> This will contain a LOT of spoilers for the rest of the series (what's left of it, anyway) if you see them. I'll be updating Demons as soon as I'm able but writing is taking a toll on me right now. Also, my SPN feels are kinda on the down-low. I'm trying to pick myself up. It might take a while longer, but I swear I will NOT abandon the Bloodlines Project.

It’s December. Isn’t this month supposed to be a happy month, filled with warmth and love and acceptance? Only, John has been coming home rarer and rarer as of late, and had it not been Dad’s reassurance that he was at Seraph the whole time, I would have—

I didn’t know I’d be that kind of wife, where I… where I, you know, think my husband is cheating.

Am I being irrational? Am I becoming the paranoid little bitch my cousins always told I’d end up becoming? I’m honestly afraid— ~~afraid of how this marriage is going to end up.~~

But—

I think it’s better if I introduce myself first, right? John—my husband—gave me this notebook just yesterday, saying it’s going to help me in the next couple of months (years) and that one day, it’s going to help someone else. I don’t know what he’s up to, but I have no idea what those people are up to most of the time.

My name is Mary Campbell, the only daughter to Samuel and Deanna Campbell of unknown and uncertain ancestry. ~~Maybe we’re not even of this planet~~ I have been married to John Winchester for half a year, and am now certain that I am ready for child.

I am, as is obvious if it isn’t already, designated a female Omega, and though society is trying to change, I don’t see it treating me and anyone of my gender being any better than it already is. I just hope, if any of John and my children end up becoming an Omega, that the world has matured and evolved enough to be as bigoted and judgmental as to be stuck within parameters put up by people who didn’t even have enough understanding to be able to make decisions regarding people that aren’t them or like them.

Anyway, it’s a bitter winter today, I can see that much. I don’t see my husband regularly, if only because he’s still committed to a place and a group of people he’d promised he’d given up for me when I gave it up for him. (I have never wanted to work there, I promise. My father was a veteran of the place, and therefore my mother was forced to stay with him because she loved him enough, but she always promised me she’d get me out, that I don’t have to work for them.)

I don’t regret it, those ten years of training and working, because if it hadn’t been for Seraph I would never have met John. People can say what they must—but to me, John is the most attentive, loving, caring, devoted mate anyone could ever ask for.

Seraph is… it doesn’t take lightly to people who leave. Or escape, if some of the rumors I’ve heard are true. They try to hunt you down and, if they really can’t convince you to come back under their thumbs, threaten you by picking off people you care for because Seraph is highly secretive and—and, well, that’s that.

I still, to this day, have no idea how John or my Dad convinced Azazel McLean to let us go.

Maybe he hasn’t let us go, you know—maybe he’s still holding onto us. Well, he sure is holding onto my husband, and I overheard a conversation once.

They’re waiting for me.

I don’t know. I’m scared, is this how my children’s life is going to be?

I sure hope not.

\--M. C. W.


	2. January 27, 1984

John had been home more often than not these past few days—not that I’m not enjoying it. He is becoming more and more affectionate, and he is becoming sweeter and sweeter. Making up for lost time, he had told me, and I’m simply too glad to have him in my arms again to begrudge him for taking some time off.

Apparently getting our clearances signed was hard, and he was hard-pressed into making sure we really were out before he came home to me. For good now, he said. For that I am happy.

I have just talked to him about my heat this coming quarter—and he promised he wanted a child, too.

It’s—he thinks it’s a little too little, but I think it’s the best gift he could give me, if he really was trying to make up for lost time.

Really, I’m just happy he’s home.

\--M. C. W.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](http://ehre-wahrheit.tumblr.com) | [ Prompts ](http://ehre-wahrheit.tumblr.com/ask)


	3. February 3, ‘84

Mom and some of my cousins visited today—she said it was to welcome me back to the outside world. The rest of them—Francis, Helen, Gale, Marcus—were still stuck inside, but it was only Mark, whose mate, Anileen, is pregnant, has begrudged me for my newfound freedom.

I would like to mention now that these were my aforementioned cousins. You know, the ones who teased me and called me a desperate bitch—they’re… seeing them all together like that, all celebrating something that is completely my own—I guess you can say it was surreal. It was. It made me happy—probably not as happy as when John and I got married, but happy nonetheless.

John is only now starting to work as a mechanic over at one of the shops down the street, and he’s slowly gaining momentum. (The owner, an Alpha called Caleb, and his mate, a Theta called Yai, both told me that they’ll probably end up selling the garage to John when the time comes.) I have also stopped taking my birth control pills.

John and I still have money. Seraph is a large operation, but as deep and wide as its scope and power, it is also well-resourced: in other words, Seraph is very, _very_ rich. With this said—John doesn’t really have to work yet, but I think he’s planning on three, four children.

I’m excited.

Should I stop myself?

No, I don’t think so.

I think John deserves this.

I think I deserve this, too.

\--M. C. W.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS. I'll be posting 3 chapters today: One for today, for tomorrow, and for Sunday, because I will be out of town on [ANOTHER?!?!?!?!?!?!!!!] fieldwork.
> 
>  
> 
> [ Tumblr ](http://ehre-wahrheit.tumblr.com) | [ Prompts ](http://ehre-wahrheit.tumblr.com/ask)


	4. March 16

I’m having my first non-birth control Heat at the end of next month, the first since I presented with my first Heat _ever_ when I was twelve.

I’m not sure if I’m scared or excited, or if I’m both. I’m scared, mostly because Dad has been hanging with John a lot more often lately, and Dad never hangs with John unless it’s because of Seraph. I thought we were out? And I thought that was completely?

But—but I sure do hope they don’t force our future child (children) into Seraph just because we were there too. John and I wanted out because we wanted to give our children this—a normal life, a life outside of being controlled little soldiers like their father and mother.

I hope I won’t be a failure.

\--M. C. W.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](http://ehre-wahrheit.tumblr.com) | [ Prompts ](http://ehre-wahrheit.tumblr.com/ask)


	5. April 12

Oh god, I feel so horrible right now. I knew the consequences of everything was going to be something I wasn’t expecting but—but something like this? ~~This is~~

This is out of bounds.

 ~~This is too much~~.

I don’t think I can do this.

Can I do it?

Should I do it? I’ve wanted this for months. God knows we’ve wanted this for longer—who am I to say no? It’s

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](http://ehre-wahrheit.tumblr.com) | [ Prompts ](http://ehre-wahrheit.tumblr.com/ask)


	6. April 20

I did it.

I feel terrible, like there’s something broken deep inside of me, and maybe there is. I think the only way I could have done that was for something to give way, for something to break.

Of course it had to be me, right? It had to me sweet little Mary, runt of the pack and everyone’s little bitch. God.

I hope this is the end of it.

I hope this is the end of my body readjusting to not having to produce the hormones and cells required for pregnancy. It sure makes me feel like crap.

\--M. C. W.


	7. June 7, 1984

I’ve been feeling horrible this past whole month, and so the lack of anything good to tell you—but there is something.

I just took a test, this morning. John is out at work, and I’m calling Lexa, one of the teachers over at the school I’ve decided to teach in, for once, to help me through my little ~~fucking~~ panic attacks.

You know, if anyone heard me cursing, I’d be in such deep trouble. Everyone expects us, good little Omegas, to be princesses flouncing about and being the sweet little peapods we look to be. Male, female—it doesn’t matter what you were born to be, if you were designated an Omega, you’re supposed to act like princess little Omega.

Those stupid standards make me want to fight even harder for the legislation of Omega rights. It’s—I know it’s hard for a lot of people to accept that Omegas even _want_ to have rights, but we’re people too. We’re amassing power from within ourselves, one another, and sympathy from a lot of non-Omegas. If we so wish, I think we can wage a war against governments not willing to sign constitutions that include the protection of Omegas as agencies of their own we can—and we’ll probably be supported until we come out on top.

It’s a wonderful thought—

Except the test came out positive, and I don’t think it’s appropriate for me to think of such violent scenarios while I am caring a child within myself.

 ~~Child~~.

\--M. C. W.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](http://theorynpractice.tumblr.com)


	8. June 19, 1984

Today marks exactly one month since the end of my Heat—the Heat that had conceived the child I am holding now—and today… today, well, the only thing I can say is today it all begins and ends.

It sounds ominous, but you should have heard it as me when I was younger. Hearing something like this, having to decide to agree? It made me feel sick. Made me scared.

And now I’ll be handing it all to them in a hand basket.

At least for now I have Michael and Valentine and Dana and Wailey, because they’re the only ones who can be here for me—John is too busy to be bothered, and he is needed out there more than he is in here.

Michael is steely; I think he’s angry that I agreed.

Did I have a choice, though?

Can I still choose?

\--M.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](http://theorynpractice.tumblr.com)


	9. June 24

Oh god, I feel like I want to die. It’s excruciating. They expect me to live with this for… for how long? No, no it’s impossible—I can’t do it. ~~They can’t expect me to do it.~~

 ~~It’s not~~ —I don’t even know how to feel about what they’ve done.

And all they did was to test me.

Three times.

That’s all, this past five days, because they have to start it off slow, but I have several pills and medications I have to take regularly—I can do the pills, but I _can’t_ do that again. It hurts, and it feels like there’s something cold and heavy and _deadly_ twisting inside of me, twisting everything that’s inside of me, cutting me inside out.

I just got out—it’s Valentine who came to pick me up. Apparently John was too busy at the garage. I wonder if he’s feeling remorse for what he couldn’t have done anything to prevent.

\--M.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](http://theorynpractice.tumblr.com)
> 
> (If, so far, you have questions about this 'verse or if you would like to talk to me please don't hesitate to hit me up over there ^^^^^^ My ask is always open for you guys :D)


	10. June 30

I was wrong. I thought it couldn’t get worse—but I think the pills aren’t helping me at all. What am I supposed to do, question them? I’m practically surviving off of them, like a little fucking parasite.

It _hurts_. I can’t move, I can’t properly _think_ —not to mention that too much painkillers are going to harm my baby.

I

John could have stopped this, you know. If he told me I didn’t have to do it, that he’ll be okay, that we’ll be fine—I would have believed him and wouldn’t have agreed to doing this shit.

But he didn’t—he didn’t even try to reassure me.

He just stood there, watching with his stupid placid, blank mask as if he couldn’t care less what happened.

God, I’m so stupid.

\--M.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](http//theorynpractice.tumblr.com)


	11. July 19

I have to go again.

John had not allowed Michael or Valentine or _anyone_ to see me this whole time after a confrontation with a rather violent turnout. I’m proud to call them my friends, and I wish they could be with me. As of late the only presence I have around me is my father and my husband, and both of them don’t know how to care for a pregnant woman.

They’re both… they’re both just there, just standing there in the mornings while I vomit all of my internal organs and they just offer me water and think that that’s okay.

Right now, right now though? They’re the only allies I have.

And I think that’s the exact mentality they want to ingrain in me.

\--M.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](http://theorynpractice.tumblr.com)


	12. July 30

You know, when I woke up, my first thought was, ‘well, that isn’t so bad’.

No, I didn’t feel nearly as bad as I felt the first time but—but I was unconscious for almost a week.

And I have new prescription dietary drops.

Yey for me.

\--M.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](http://theorynpractice.tumblr.com/tagged/grey_sunset)
> 
> (I am posting more chapters tonight because I am not sure I will have to motivation to even get on the internet the next few days. Forgive me.)


	13. August 19

I just… today the drops ran out at breakfast, and I have to have that in my drinks all three meals of the day—I’m not going to the clinic until after lunch, and I was scared that it wouldn’t have any effects at all if I suddenly just stop because I ran out completely

And I decided I’d go buy some myself. Thing is, I didn’t know what it was—I’d forgotten—so I puttered around the kitchen in search of the box. I’m almost done with my first trimester anyway, and therefore I don’t feel as nauseous in the mornings, so I can leave the house comfortably bright and early without feeling sick.

Do you want to know what I found, when I finally located the box?

 _Radioactive drops_.

I’ve been feeding myself and my body radioactive particles as part of my daily diet this whole month.

God, I—I’m not sure who’s going to find this in the future, who I’m going to leave it to, but I think it’s time the truth came out.

I think it’s time I tell someone what really is happening, what I agreed to… what they’re making me do.

But not now, John’s here.

I have another session with the clinic.

\--M.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](http://ehre-wahrheit.tumblr.com) | [ Prompts ](http://ehre-wahrheit.tumblr.com/ask)


	14. September 2, 1984

It’s called the Bloodlines Project.

It is—it’s what it sounds to be: a group of people tinkering about someone else’s bloodline to see how supposed genetics and controlled genetics affect the offspring. In this case, my child.

My firstborn—I must have sinned someone bad enough that they believe I owe someone my firstborn. It’s almost comical if you think about it, but it’s no laughing matter.

You see, all these months ago, when I started getting off of my birth control pills, Seraph’s president, Azazel McLean, kidnapped my husband. I’m—now at first I thought it was just a work thing, that he was being targeted by someone, and it turns out I was right.

Only, the ransom they wanted? My family.

They… they made me choose between my husband, parents, cousins, nephews, and nieces dying, or sacrificing a small portion of my life—just nine months, they promised, and the life that comes out of it—for a greater cause.

They wanted to experiment with the Winchester genes, because the family has been around for as long as they can think, and for some reason all the firstborn males are born Alphas. They don’t even need to mate with Omegas to ensure Alpha offspring: that’s just how their genetics work.

Now, the Campbell bloodline, which is as diverse as the Winchester one is pure, is a pure anomaly, according to Dr. McLean. Campbells, apparently, have been well known to be of equal distribution in designation per generation—and yeah, I agree with that.

Now, I think I’ve mentioned my cousins—Francis, Helen, Gale?—they’re all my cousins in my dad’s side. Mark is Mom’s sister’s son, and therefore isn’t really a Campbell.

So… we’re the only ones in our generation, and Dr. McLean was spot on in saying that we’re evenly distributed. Gale, the Alpha; Helen, the Beta; Francis, the Theta; and Mary, the Omega. It’s a study in contrasts, when you mix Winchester with Campbell, and I can only imagine what they could try _not_ to achieve with these two families’ fruit.

Which, conveniently, happen to be my children.

So I had to choose between everyone’s lives and the life that doesn’t even exist yet.

As I said, had John reassured me nothing bad was going to happen, not really, I wouldn’t have agreed. But he didn’t, so I said yes. I agreed to the deal, signed the contract—and I felt like I had soul my child’s soul to the devil by doing so.

I’m still not sure what’s going to come out of this project, once it’s done. I don’t know how my child is going to come out to be, how he or she is going to look, how he or she is going to present to be.

I only wish I can apologize—I don’t think anyone can forgive me for the abhorrent act I’ve just committed my own child to. It is… it is disgusting and unreal and.

Suffice it to say, I’m a monster.

-Mary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](http://ehre-wahrheit.tumblr.com) | [ Prompts ](http://ehre-wahrheit.tumblr.com/ask)


	15. September 18

Apparently the clinic changed schedules. I usually go early afternoon, but now they want to see me early morning. I’m not sure—I feel like there’s something that’s going to be worse off today.

Tomorrow.

Well, it’s only two minutes to midnight anyway.

Huh.

-Mary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](http://ehre-wahrheit.tumblr.com) | [ Prompts ](http://ehre-wahrheit.tumblr.com/ask)


	16. September 25

I think my father thinks that by stopping my friends from seeing me, I’ll see only him and John to be my only allies—only, John is on my side now. He’s sneaking in calls from Michael and Valentine and Dana and _Lexa_ , that poor child. Even Caleb and Yai haven’t stopped calling to check up on me, because apparently it has John’s work slipping more and more, whatever sickness I’m having.

I just got off a call from Michael.

Apparently, he’s decided to say ‘fuck it’ to his dear beloved Aunt and has started courting another Alpha. I wish I could be out there to see them, to be there for him like he’d been these past years. I know they understand, that they’re trying to find a way to help me on their own, but I feel like shit.

I feel like muck, and I’m tired, and John is trying not to look at me as he feeds me drugs we have no idea how was created and allows me to drink radioactive fluids.

I love John, I do.

And I love him more now.

At least he shows he loves the child as much as I do—that he’s showing he _doesn’t_ want this happening to him or her.

I’m excited—I want to know what the sex is.

They said I could have gotten to know at the clinic, but I want to see the outside world for a little—I’d decided I’d check with an outside OB-Gyn. I know that they’re probably going to check up on the results if they ever find out, but… let me have the illusion of freedom, hey?

It makes me feel excited.

I asked Dana to make the appointment for me, and John had, of course, agreed on going with.

-M.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](http://ehre-wahrheit.tumblr.com) | [ Prompts ](http://ehre-wahrheit.tumblr.com/ask)


	17. October 4, 1984

It’s a boy.

John and Mary Winchester are having a son.

The doctor said everything is a-okay, that he’s right on track, that I’m perfectly healthy—and I’d all but laughed hysterically at the clinic, still lying on the poor doctor’s table. I’m—I find that highly unlikely, what with the amount of weird shit I’m being forced to feed the baby.

Small miracles count, I guess.

I love him already.

-M.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](http://ehre-wahrheit.tumblr.com) | [ Prompts ](http://ehre-wahrheit.tumblr.com/ask)


	18. October 30

I don’t know if I’m just getting used to the pain of the treatments I am being forced to go through, but I honestly think that it’s getting lighter. I don’t feel as sore or heavy as I did the past few months I’ve gone in there, and for that I am glad—John and dad had agreed on letting me teach again, with the warning that it only has to be light loads of students, nothing too heavy so suddenly.

Everyone is overjoyed to see me at work and in the outside world in general this past week. Apparently, I’ve had everyone worried—and with my scent letting everyone know it’s almost Christmas (pregnant Omega pheromones, hello?) everyone is just so impeccable and amenable and I just love the little children who want to touch and caress my baby bump.

There’s one child in general, a beautiful redhead named Anna Milton, whose face is bright and glowing as she told me that her Omega dad is carrying her little brother, too, that they’re going to call him Hayden because her big brother doesn’t want any other name for his little brother.

I had smiled.

I’d want a baby girl in the future—

God, I can’t believe I just thought that.

I don’t think I can even survive this pregnancy—another one? Am I going to be allowed to carry that child without the clinic? How many of my children do they want?

-M.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](http://ehre-wahrheit.tumblr.com) | [ Prompts ](http://ehre-wahrheit.tumblr.com/ask)


	19. November 13, 1984

Anna said Hayden is going to be born in March—and that Hayden has a twin sister, someone they’re going to call Hailey. I’d met Mr. Milton, and he’s a sweet Omega who shares my sentiments about pregnancy and the weight gain and the scares.

Anna adores her dad, I can see it in her face—but the way Mr. Milton-the-Alpha looked at Anna, Mr. Milton-the-Omega and a boy I assume to be Anna’s older brother was… it was utter devotion. It was love and adoration and commitment and fragile fear.

It’s so beautiful, seeing families like that.

I just hope that, if my son finds a mate and has a family, he’ll look at them the same way Mr. Milton did at his own, the way John sometimes looks at me when he thinks no one’s looking.

I can feel him kicking now.

I wonder how much longer he has, if this treatment is going to kill him.

For his sake, I hope it does.

-M.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Tumblr ](http://ehre-wahrheit.tumblr.com) | [ Prompts ](http://ehre-wahrheit.tumblr.com/ask)


	20. November 24

I think I’ve gotten used to the treatment now.

It barely even affects me anymore.

-M.


	21. December 1, 1984

You have now witnessed one whole year of my life.

I have just submitted an appeal for a heavier workload. I don’t have any high hopes of the appeal being accepted, because 1. I’m pregnant, 2. I’m an Omega, and 3. apparently I’m a very sickly pregnant Omega. But It helps to think I have at least a chance at teaching again, right? Being teacher aide is more boring than most college students think.

Okay, so the fact that you are in one-on-one contact with problem students and needy children is something that makes you feel better as a TA, but… there’s something about really getting out there, you know—lesson plans and quizzes, competencies and grades. That’s the beauty of being a teacher, watching all your plans come to life and seeing the fruits of your labor in the form of high marks and school-wide awards.

I want to have that, that’s the reason I decided I want to be a teacher in the first place. I know, I have my own child; but knowing you’ve helped someone in such a manner, in such a wide scope? It’s… it’s gratifying.

Human nature, I guess.

John doesn’t know about the appeal, and so hopefully Dad doesn’t find out either. I think my own father is in leagues with the people torturing my son, and though the thought itself it repulsive, the way he’s been acting, it’s the only plausible conclusion. He doesn’t even go home anymore. He has set up camp in my and John’s apartment, when he was averse to it in the first place.

Even mom is going crazy about his caginess.

I’m worried.

Is my father in leagues with my son’s torturers?

-Mary


	22. December 30

I don’t know where John is.

He wasn’t home Christmas morning—I think he and Dad left with the rest of the family after Christmas eve dinner, but isn’t that supposed to be the spirit of Christmas? I wanted to wake up in my husband’s arms.

I don’t know where he is.

He hasn’t been home in five days—no messages, no beeps—not even a single note on the door telling me he can’t have me anymore. I don’t think it’s supposed to be reassuring that not even my father could be found, right? He’s missing, too.

Michael and Valentine are trying to be here for me, and Dana is trying to appease Wailey and tell him that it’s okay, that she only has to come to me because I need her—and stupid as it is, I do. Michael brings his chosen one, a man younger than all of them, but he’s helpful and compassionate and—

And they answer all of my questions.

I’m already half crazed about everything that’s happening, with my son slowly being killed inside of me, my husband going missing for days at a time, and my father gone as well. I want my friends… and apparently, they know more about Project Bloodlines than I do.

It’s—it was excruciating to listen to, and I sobbed and fought and didn’t want to believe in anything they wanted to tell me.

Apparently, the way the drugs work in my child’s body and genetic coding, it makes him—it practically makes him the perfect little soldier. If… if he’s nourished the right way, whoever can find a way to train his body into listening, he’ll be the perfect killing machine. Fast. Strong. Efficient. Unconscious. Cold. Mechanical. Android.

He’s—they’re making my son a monster.

Val held me to him while I cried and bawled, curling myself around my son as well as I could, now that it’s too late. It was stupid of me to believe it was just an _experiment._

I’m not the experiment—I’m the result.

I feel sick.

Many other children had gotten killed, just trying to perfect the way they’ve changed my son.

Oh god.

It’s too late, too, apparently.

If I stop the treatment now, both my baby and I are going to die. He’s become dependent on the natural food I ingest to give him. He can’t depend on any other thing—not the vitamins, just me. And if I stop, I won’t be able to ingest food _at all._ I’d be too sick.

They got me dependent on the drugs.

And now I—I’m going to force my son to become a monster because of it.

I wonder if we could ever get out of here.

I wonder if I can still get my son out of this place, before they decide to make him useful. I wonder what John would say to fleeing and getting the hell out, if he’d agree.

Maybe Michael will get my son out.

Or… or maybe I’ll—

I can’t do anything.

I’m useless, I’m helpless.

There’s nothing I can do for my son but give him life.

Help me.

Please.

-M.


	23. January 2, 1985

They found him dead.

Happy new year to Mary.

John isn’t home yet—but they found my father dead.

Shot, twice in the head; stabbed, six times in his torso.

He froze to death, the bullet not killing him immediately but giving him about fifteen minutes to feel as his whole body succumbed to the cold.

I don’t know if that’s coincidental with the death of three other scientists from the Project within the last month.

Is this someone sending a message? And if so, what is it?

Why are they doing this _now_?

The baby is coming.

It’s too late.

Or is that why they did it? Are they trying to give the baby some time? But they killed my father. Someone I couldn’t love after what he’s done, maybe, but my father nonetheless.

Michael’s mate had just passed by to give me some food.

John isn’t home yet.


	24. January 8

John finally came home—dirty, smelly, hungry, but he’s home.

He doesn’t know about Dad. He’s shocked.

He smiled when he felt the baby kicking.

He was redesigned to be a weapon, a human weapon—but he’s still our baby.

“Dean”. John thought it up—I don’t know why, but that name was perfect.

Dean Humanity Winchester—

A weapon of destruction.

It’s fitting.


	25. January 13

I had a nightmare today.

My son was a beautiful young man—but he was uncontrollable. John didn’t let him go crazy and kill off everyone who so much as annoyed him in the school.

He rebelled during his teenage years.

The police were hunting him down by the time he hit his twenties.

Seraph was regretful when John and Mary finally approached them.

Dean—the beautiful, beautiful Dean—was in a killing rampage, but he was sweet and adoring when he said, ‘Mommy?’. He was charming and devoted when he promised, ‘I love my family—I’ll love you, mommy. And my mate, and my children. They won’t be monsters. We’re the only monsters, mommy. But I love you.’

And it hit me that it was true.

I’m a monster for letting them touch my child in any way that wasn’t to protect or nurture him.


	26. January 20

This is… this is only the beginning of the chronicles of Dean Winchester. I’m the back story—I don’t know how it’s going to be after this.

Dean is coming, he’s coming within the week.

I’ve lost so much due to this project.

I’ve lost my father. I’ve lost the friends to the same forces they wanted to protect me from. I’ve lost my life, for real: the kind of life I’m living now? This isn’t the life I imagined for my family when I finally decided I wanted to get out. I’ve lost _everything_ because of the Bloodlines Project.

I lost my child, and he isn’t even in this world yet.

If you’re the one who finds this, Dean, I want you to know something: that you’re not the monster. Neither am I. I’ve lost so much, but I also gained something, something that those people wanted and thought they could muster by taking you from me: I gained power.

They know what I’m talking about.

I hope you won’t have to see that, but I love you, Dean.

I do.

This is the beginning of your chronicle, your prophecy, your legend, Dean Winchester.

It’s your turn.

 

Love,

Mary Campbell-Winchester

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY THAT WAS A ROLLERCOASTER 
> 
> COME AT ME @ [ ehre-wahrheit ](http://ehre-wahrheit.tumblr.com)

**Author's Note:**

> I am posting this because, I realized, I have a part of this series already completed. Why should I wait for all the others?
> 
> This will be only a short piece, to be honest, just to fill the space between now and Chapter 12. But I have completed this. I will try to post a chapter (an entry?) a day.
> 
> [ Tumblr ](http://ehre-wahrheit.tumblr.com) | [ Prompts ](http://ehre-wahrheit.tumblr.com/ask)


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